


Pictures For You

by AndreyaWinchester



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AKA Prompto is not a twink, Boys In Love, M/M, Masterbating to lewd pictures of best friend, Masterbation, Oh look now its both sided, Photography, Promptis- One Sided, Prompto gets risque, Selfies, but he also kinda is, for now, in the long run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10268888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreyaWinchester/pseuds/AndreyaWinchester
Summary: “How about you take some shots of yourself for a change?”“What, you mean like a selfie? I’ll see what I can do.”Photography comes naturally, and perhaps this photographer gets a little brave with the request at hand





	1. Familiar Gaze

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm actually really happy with how this turned out! I had a lot of fun writing this.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you think!

The light of the sun shone through the windows of the caravan and projected a patterned shadow of horizontal lines, paralleling the blinds that hung from the window frames. The air, even within the stuffy camper, smelt of salt water and suntan lotion.

 

The commotion outside was beginning to die down, children no longer playing, dogs no longer barking. Conversations were simmering down as everyone prepared to turn in for the night to the safety of their lodgings.

 

The sun was setting over the waters that were Galdin Quay, causing the sunset to reflect in the waters. Beautiful tones of purples and pinks, oranges and reds. The ever ready photographer took a few pictures from the door of the Caravan before he ducked inside.

 

The Prince had declared that he needed some wind down time and had occupied himself at the fishing doc’s for the evening, probably intending to remain casting and reeling well after the sun set.

 

The strategist had decided to scour the restaurant of Galdin Quay, picking the brains of the chefs to try pry a new recipe or two from their minds.

 

The Shield had went out into the evening to gather materials needed for curatives and meals. He was intending to stay out well into the darkness of night to complete a hunt they had taken for Takka to earn some extra gil.

 

That left the Photographer alone in the caravan with his camera. The others words rang through his head.

 

_How about some shots of you for a change?_

 

The blonde was baffled. Why would the prince wish to see pictures of _him_? He wondered idly, but he wasn’t one to argue.

 

He settled into the booth of the kitchen table, elbows coming to rest on the plastic counter top as he began to look through his pictures for the day.

 

There had been plenty of selfies of himself, but he never missed a chance to take an action shot during a battle, or catch a candid at the perfect moment.

 

Filters were his new experiment, seeing what filters worked in which situations. He found black and white didn’t bode well with battle shots, washing out the action too much.

 

Letting out a sigh he ran a hand through his messy hair, pausing as he noted the next picture. It had been the last one he had taken for the day before snapping a few pictures of the sun set.

 

It was a selfie of himself and the Prince. He himself had his arm outstretched, as noted in the corner of the picture. He had a goofy grin on his face but the Prince wasn’t matching it. His eyes were soft and his smile was almost sad; somber. His eyes looked distant, but they were focused on the blonde while he was focused on getting the shot.

 

Lids closed over cobalt as the photographer shut his eyes, attempting to clear his thoughts. He was over thinking that, for sure. But..his curiosity was piqued. He flipped back through his photo history, and found several pictures of his Highness with a matching expression.

 

Heart fluttering and blood racing through his veins, he took a deep breath. The photographer knew that look. It was one he so often gave the Prince himself. It was a look of longing. Of want of something he could never have. Something that was off limits because it wasn’t available. Seeing the look on the Prince's face nearly shattered his own heart with the revelation that perhaps the prince returned the feelings that he had been retaining for so many years now.

 

He set his camera down after pressing the power button, moving to the couch that would later be folded out into a bed that night when everyone decided to settle in. Beside that couch, the Prince's phone was plugged into the outlet, charging.

 

Shaking hands reached for the phone, unplugging it from its charge port. Once glance over his left shoulder. Right shoulder. No one else was in the Caravan with him, and he didn’t see them returning any time soon. They had all just departed, after all.

 

He wasn’t sure where the spout of confidence came from, but he wasn’t going to lose it now. He assured the door to the caravan was shut before closing the blinds most of the way, letting just enough light from the shining sun to slip through the cracks.

 

Freckled shoulders shrugged off his vest, tossing it onto the couch as he placed the phone in his hand down for a moment. He gripped the hem of his shirt, hesitating before lifting it over his head, further tussling his hair. He had already discarded of his boots when he initially entered the caravan.

 

He grabbed the camera once more, and swiped the camera button up, opening the self-facing camera. He extended his arm, and with his free hand hooked his thumb into the belt loop of his pants as he took a selfie, one eye closed in a wink as he hit the button.

 

If all else in the morning and he regretted this, he’d make up an excuse he had gotten drunk and thought it was his own phone.

 

He made his way for the bed at the front of the camper, looking down at the shadowed pattern strewn across it. He crawled onto the bed and laid back against the pillows, sighing as he lifted the camera above his head, getting an angle of him glancing up at it, showing most of his form in the shot. He stuck his tongue out ever so slightly as he took the picture.

 

Damn, he was good with angles.

 

He scrolled through the filters on the others phone before settling on sepia tone for his next photo. The blond rolled onto his side, free hand moving down to shimmy his pants down slightly, emphasizing his hipbones and the light blond happy trail leading down beneath his waistline. Leopard print pants pushed down far enough to reveal the bright red of his boxers, though the filter gave it a softer look.

 

He turned on the timer on the phone, propping it against the wall and letting his finger graze the button on the screen before quickly coming to prop his head up, free hand looped yet again by the thumb in the belt loop of his pants, tugging them down even more so. He gave the camera a longing look, just in time for it to take the picture.

 

Change of filter. Black and white. He grabbed the camera and laid back on his back, propped against the pillows. Just the thought of the prince coming across these pictures...He felt heat rise to his cheeks and he took a photo from his navel up, cutting off the tips of his hair as he looked to the side, a flustered look on his features.

 

Quickly he reverted the filter to its natural settings and took a picture of that in color as well before returning to black and white.

 

A new position brought him to be upright on the bed. Sitting with his legs slightly bowed and spread as he let out a sigh, free hand slipping from his belt loop and ghosting over his pelvic area, palm brushing over his crotch where he wasn’t bothering to hide the growing erection.

 

Letting out a soft sound, eyes fluttering shut, he took another photo of just his face, moving the camera to do another angled shot from above, assuring it was clear where his hand was located, cupping himself as he let out a soft sound.

 

He debated videos. He decided against it, waiting to test the waters with these pictures. And he didn’t intend to go too much further with these videos.

 

The photographer's hand idly rubbed at the bulge, feeling denim rubbing against the silk of his boxers, causing an exciting friction.

 

He was scrolling through the pictures he had taken so far. He bit his lip as he went back to the camera, turning off the filters and deciding to stay natural. He gave his package a light squeeze and moaned. He took a picture.

 

Biting his lip, he opened half lidded eyes to stare into the camera with a look more than longing. A look of lust and pure desire. He took the picture, shortly after extending his arm to the side, slipping his hand into the front of his pants, slipping into his boxers. He took a picture.

 

As his hand wrapped around his cock, he dropped the phone, now free hand falling to the sheets of the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had touched himself. But every time he had, it was the same raven hair and ocean blues he imagined as he did.

 

Finding his position rather uncomfortable, the photographer shimmied his pants down to his thighs, enough that his erect cock could spring free from its confines, curling against his stomach.

 

He grabbed it slowly around the base, running his hand up the length of it and swiping his thumb across the head, smearing the precum as he went, dragging that thumb down the length of his erection, tracing the vein that ran along the underside.

 

“N-Noct,” the breath left him before he could silence himself, instantly biting on his lip enough to make it bruise. No one was in the caravan, why be silent?

 

Because that was not a name that was ever meant to leave his lips. He stifled every sound that attempted to pass his lips, all coming through as muffled and strained.

 

Tousled raven hair and lidded azure filled his imagination as he allowed his eyes to close, a groan escaping him as his hips canted into his fist.

 

A quick rhythm was set, wanting to finish before anyone returned to the caravan and witnessed the sight of the photographer getting himself off, the Princes phone laying on the bed beside him.

 

He shut his eyes tighter at the thought of being caught, only to see the light orbs flash to fuchsia in a dangerously lustful look.

 

A soft cry of the Prince’s name left his lips as he came, bringing his free hand up to bite his knuckles, hips canting into his fist before his grip went slack and his hips rolled to a stop, breathing heavy as the hot cum quickly began to cool on his chest in the dry air. His chest rose and feel with each deep inhale he too, trying to compose himself.

 

He allowed his hand to fall from his mouth to the bed beside him, grabbing the princes phone one last time. He lifted it with sluggish limbs, holding it above himself as he opened the camera yet again. He gave the camera a blissful expression, photo capturing chest up, and he didn’t even bother to hide the few strips of cum that had reached his chest that made their way into the photograph.

 

He was too tired to care.

 

Inhale, exhale. He laid there for a few moments, allowing his breathing to even out and his heart rate to decrease. He tucked himself back into his pants and boxers only to stand up, groaning as he stretched.  

 

Grabbing the phone once more, he entered to the kitchen, turning the blinds of the window to open slightly. He lifted the phone and changed the camera to be outward facing and snapped a picture of the mostly setting sun and the beach of Galdin Quay. He took a few shots before finally exiting from the camera and locking the phone, returning it to where it had been charging beside the couch.

 

A yawn escaped him as he scooped up his vest and shirt, moving to enter the undersized restroom. He stripped from his pants and boxers, glad he had kept them mostly mess free, and folded his clothing over the closed toilet lid before turning on the even more cramped shower. He stepped under the lukewarm spray, allowing the water to flatten his hair and wash his release off his torso.

 

He felt the caravan shift with the weight of someone entering while he was in the shower, and once he had stepped out and began to dry off, the motion repeated it self. He got changed, throwing on just his boxers and his tank top before exiting the bathroom with his clothes folded over his arm.

 

He glanced at the Shield who had settled himself onto the bed, a book in hand and then to the strategist who had begun placing vials and pouches of herbs and spices into their food rations.

 

A sleepy smile crossed his face as they both acknowledged him with a nod. The photographer made quick work of unfolding the couch into its bed form, fluffing out the blanket onto it. He tossed his clothes onto the bench seat of the dining room table, and crawled onto the couch, grabbing two pillows from the compartment that was concealed behind the back of the couch when it was still in couch from.

 

He tossed the other pillow down beside him as he laid his underneath his own head, tugging the blanket up over his shoulders. He was content and exhausted, well and ready for rest after his rather satisfying photo shoot.

 

If only faintly, he registered the caravan shifting once more as the fourth member returned to the caravan, but he had already drifted to the realm of dreams to be bothered with taking note it was the Prince.

 

Only time would tell how successful his photo shoot really was. But for now the photographer would dream of azure eyes and raven locks. Soft hands ghosting over a freckled canvas, soft lips kissing each spot that the sun had kissed his skin. He would dream of his best friend in ways that he knew were not for anyone but the betrothed, but his dreams were reserved for him  and he took pleasure in experiencing his dreams and witnessing his wildest fantasies unfold.


	2. Truth Betold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis has his phone in hand

A day had passed and the group had left Galdin Quay. They had stopped at Hammerhead to drop off the Regalia for a check up, then turned in their quest to Takka and received gil.

 

The Strategist insisted they take another hunt from the man to earn some more gil.

 

Dirty, covered in grime and exhausted, the boys settled into a haven come evening, deciding against paying for a caravan again. It was time to start putting back.

 

The prince perched himself against his fluffy companion, listening to the sift ‘kwehs’ that left the bird as it ate its greens.

 

“Ignis, Is dinner almost ready?” The raven haired male asked as he pulled out his phone. He hovered over his screen, noticing the picture for his camera roll was the sunset.

 

“Patience, your highness. It truly is a virtue.” the man spoke as he pushed up his glasses before flipping something over in his skillet.

 

Prince huffed softly as he raised a dismissive hand, thumb hovering over his camera roll and about to open it and,check out the pictures.

 

A loud squawk sounded as one if the birds stood up, rushing over to the prince. Everyone's heads turned towards the feathered companion as it snatched,the Prince's phone in its beak and dashed,away from the haven.

 

“H-Hey!!” the victim of the theft yelled as he warped off the haven and in the direction of the bird. But the bird was too fast, vanishing into the night with the phone.

  
“The hell just happened?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUST KIDDING!!
> 
> I will post an ACTUAL chapter later this week. Blame my friend Raven for this!!


	3. Camera Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the Prince retrieves his phone, he wants to look at that picture of the sunset that he didn't recall taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this chapter wasn't as good as the first, and I apologize in advance. I have a better muse for Prompto than I do Noctis. But I tried my hardest <3
> 
> Enjoy!

The Prince had ran into the night with his shield as he chased down the feathered fiend that stole his phone. It took well over an hour to track down the bird and retrieve the phone from its hold.

 

Luckily, the phone held no damage. The Prince was relieved. The second he retrieved it, he had cleaned off the screen and shoved it onto his coat pocket, grumbling. 

 

The Shield and his liege made their way back to the haven, with the fiend in tow. The two were muddy and bickering about who  _ actually _ retrieved the phone.

 

“Say whatcha want, but I’m the one who retrieved the phone.” The Prince mused, waving a dismissive hand as he stepped over the haven boundary, making his way to the fire to sit down and warm up.

 

“It’s pretty easy to snatch a phone from a bird when  _ someone _ has said bird in a headlock,” the larger man grunted, shaking his hand as he made his way over to his previously discarded dinner plate. The chocobo returned to its place, curled up against its brethren beside the tent.

 

\--

 

The Prince ate his meal before retiring to the tent early. After the endeavor of chasing down the rebellious chocobo, he wanted nothing more than sleep. He even turned down an invitation to partake in a few rounds of Kings Knight.

 

He kicked off his boots by the door before crawling into his sleeping bag, adjusting himself to get comfortable and ready to drift into a deep slumber.

 

He retrieved from his pocket the device  **he** had managed to return to his possession. He never had gotten to admire the picture of the sunset he didn’t recall taking. He let out a yawn as he unlocked his phone with a soft  _ click _ and hovered over his photo gallery before allowing himself to open his camera roll. 

 

The raven haired male was about to open the photo of the sunset when he froze, thumb hovering over the photo from the Quay. 

 

On his screen there was at  _ least _ 6 photos that he definitely didn’t take. He blinked a few times, just staring at the thumbnails for each one. He was slightly in disbelief. No way was he seeing these right.

 

He scrolled to the first picture and opened it, looking it over. Wide cerulean scanned over a toned stomach lined with a few faint stretch marks. His eyes traveled up the torso to gaze at his freckle-faced best friend. Half naked on his phone. 

 

The Prince looked over the picture perhaps too long than would be considered appropriate for staring at a picture of one’s half naked best friend. But he was alone in the tent, so what did he care?

 

A swipe of his thumb brought him to the next picture. He allowed his eyes to linger along the waistline of those stupid leopard print jeans, at the way the other man’s boxers peeked above the hem. 

 

His eyes slowly shifted to gaze at the line of his hipbones, then to across his toned stomach to find the light happy trail that lead his eyes right back down to where he had started, staring at the point where the hair vanished beneath the waistline.

 

Swallowing thickly, the prince was becoming aware of the sudden tightness of his pants. He really should stop looking at these scandalous pictures of his best friend and perhaps approach the blonde about them.

 

But he didn’t want to. He wanted to look. He wanted to stare at the pictures of the blonde that had found their way into his camera roll one way or another. He didn’t want to question i. Not quite yet.

 

Swiping to the next picture revealed a full body shot, the other’s head propped up on his hand, his other hand hooked by a thumb into a belt loop, tugging down those  _ stupid  _ leopard print pants every so slightly more. The prince licked his lips.

 

For years he had harbored feelings for his first and best friend. He was aware that they were feelings to not be acted upon, for he was promised to another. Regardless, he always figured he’d be married off to royal blood. But he could never fend off the butterflies in his stomach when he looked at the other.

 

Again he swiped to the next picture, then the next. His hand had occupied itself at his groin, slowly palming at his growing erection. He knew it was wrong, but who was he to argue with his body? He was alone in the tent, the guys all preoccupied outside with food and what sounded like Kings Knight. 

 

How dare they play without him!

 

He let out a soft sigh as he rolled onto his side, holding his phone securely as he scanned over the photo on his screen. A cute little selfie with the blonde’s cheeks dusted a light pink, highlighting his freckles against his pale skin.

 

The Prince scanned the others features, noting how his eyes were side cast, looking away from the camera, clearly flustered. 

 

The photographer was so damn cute...The Prince allowed his hand to slip beneath the waistline of his pants and into his boxers, wrapping his hand around the base of his arousal.

 

He began a rhythm of stroking himself, slow and steady as he went through the pictures. The photo of the blushing gunman also came in black and white, and it was just as cute and arousing. He let a groan fall from his lips as he swiped to the next picture.

 

Quiet, he had to remain quiet. The other three were right outside the tent, including the blonde that starred in all of these pictures.

 

His throat felt dry as he swallowed thickly, looking at the next picture. The other’s face was beautiful. Eyes shut, lips parted in what the prince imagined to be a soft sigh.

 

He swiped his thumb across the head of his cock, biting his lip to hold in the groan. Swiping to the next photo revealed the other’s hand over a very clear tent in his  _ stupid _ leopard print pants.

 

The blonde had taken the Prince’s phone and taken these photos on it...The Prince was still baffled by the appearance of the photos on his phone, but again, didn’t wish to question them till later.

 

The next picture showed the man rubbing at his bulge, clearly moaning in the picture. How did he take such perfect pictures while distracted? 

 

He shifted in his sleeping bag to slip his pants and boxers down, allowing his arousal to spring free. He gripped it again, and continued at a quicker pace.

 

“P-Pr--”the prince had to bite his lip once more, harder than previously, to prevent the other’s name or any sound to leave hi slips as he got himself off to the scandalous pictures of his best friend. 

 

Longing, lustful eyes stared at him in the next picture, and another groan slipped past the Prince’s lips. 

 

The next picture revealed the photographer's hand inside his pants, and the prince let out yet another soft sound, closing his eyes for a moment. He was so close…

 

He fisted his cock faster, thumb swiping the tip every now and again, spreading precum along the length. He swiped to the next picture and that was it for him, he dropped his phone beside him to bite down on his hand as he came into his hand, unable to stop the muffled groan that left him as he reached his release.

 

All he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears as he came down from his high. He didn’t register any other noise. Including the zipper of the tent being undone, and a voice speaking.

 

But when he came to his senses he was very aware of the other male’s presence, eyes widening as he stared up at the blonde stared down at him with flushed cheeks and shifting eyes.

 

Oh, what a compromising position he Prince was found in. His sleeping bag had shifted downwards, nestled around his waist more so than him being fully inside it. His sleeping bag just barely hid his hand around his softening cock, but it was pretty obvious as to what he had just done. He was still biting down on his hand as his wide blue eyes stared up at the photographer now staring back at him.

 

“P-Prompto, I-I” the prince stammered, shifting himself back into his pants, wiping his hands on his shirt, surly to regret the action later.

 

He watched as azure flickered away and to the side, where the Princes phone lay, the photo of the blonde still on the screen, blissed out and cum covered.

 

“Y-You found them,” the blonde spoke, voice thick with something that could only be described as arousal. The Prince felt his cock twitch at the others tone.

 

“Y-yeah,” was all the raven haired male could say.

 

The gunman glanced over his shoulder before hurrying into the tent, quickly zipping it up before kneeling in the tent, looking down at the man who had found the photos he had taken for him.

 

“W-Well...whadya think?” the state in which the blonde had found the other male gave him the courage to ask, because it was quite evident he didn’t  _ hate _ the photos.

 

He didn’t even receive a verbal answer as the front of his vest was gripped and he was tugged down into a rough and sloppy kiss. Teeth clashed against one another for a moment before the two of them set into a rhythm. 

 

The kiss was short lived as the prince pulled back, eyes wide with a mixture of emotions.

 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry I--”

 

“No, don’t.” the photographer spoke, licking his lips. The other still had his vest in his grip, and he reached up to set his hands over the others. 

 

A silence fell between them that was both a mixture of comfortable and awkward. After a moment, the prince spoke up.

 

“I found your pictures, and Uh...Well...Shit, Prompto, you’re really really hot.” he said, cheeks tinting a dark shade of pink. The other male laughed.

 

“Yeah? Could say the same about you how i just found you,” the blonde spoke, cheeks tinging a dark red, highlighting  his freckles in the best way. The Prince smiled and pulled him into another kiss. Less desperate and rough. This one was more meaningful. It was slower and thought out, and both men allowed their eyes to fall shut as again they found a rhythm, tongues beginning to explore, tracing over lips and entering each others mouths, battling back and forth for dominance.

 

The night continued like that, a contented make out session until a certain Shield decided he was going to go to bed, soon followed by a strategist. The two broke apart the second they noted the others silhouette outside the canvas of the tent door. The Prince snatched up his phone and locked it, shoving it under his head as he laid down, pulling his sleeping bag up. The other male laid behind him, curled into the other’s lightly. 

 

The Photographer was glad he had taken the photos. The Prince was grateful he came across them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Had enough requests for a chapter two so here ya go! 
> 
> I will probably not be cobtinuing tgis any further. As much as I'd like to, i am not well informed on male anatomy or sex with a guy. And am not very confident in writing guy/guy smut. I've done it and will continue do it, but for a fic like this, I'd want to perfect it and Idk if I can do it justice. I may attempt to write it in the future, but for now this is a completed fic.
> 
> Sorry guys 


End file.
